


Lucidity

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drabble, Second War with Voldemort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-04-01
Updated: 2008-04-01
Packaged: 2018-10-27 16:15:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10812492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: Dean used to think everyone reacted this way when they caught sight of their best friend.





	Lucidity

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** Written for jocap

The steam parts in front of him like a curtain, letting the blurry shape come into sharper focus.

He knows who it is, though—he’d know who was there even if he was blind and deaf. He knows by the way his heart always seems to stop for a moment, then restarts in double time. He used to think that was just what happened when normal people caught sight of their best friend but now he’s pretty sure it means something different.

At any rate, most blokes wouldn’t be licking their lips and feeling their cock swell under the knotted towel when they came upon their best mate in the shower, would they?

He wonders how many moments of hungry perusal he can allow himself before the risk of getting caught outweighs the rewards. At the moment, it’s physically impossible to turn away from the round, firm, pale muscle and the little indentation where the curve of Seamus’ spine sharpens into the shadow in the cleft of his arse. He watches water droplets running along that line and wishes he could follow their progress with his tongue.

With a start, he realizes that he lingered too long, and Seamus is watching him over his shoulder, his face unreadable and his eyes more indigo than azure. Dean is frozen in place, and he finds to his horror that his hand is out in front of him, his fingers curved into the exact shape of Seamus’ jutting hipbone.

Instead of taking the mickey out on him, though, or worse yet, looking away in disgust, Seamus smiles, giving him a wink and jerking his head in an apparent invitation. Dean doesn’t need to be asked twice, and he’s there in two long strides.

But a jarring sound behind him has him turning away, and he realizes that it’s dark; he’s in a sleeping bag that’s half a head too short for his frame, stinks of nicotine, and has a broken zipper. What’s more, he’s curled up on a cold stone floor, Ted’s gone and Griphook is snoring. Seamus is merely a figment of his imagination any more, but at least in the dreams he can be honest about his feelings in a way that he never could during the waking hours. ****  



End file.
